


What We Do in the Dark

by exhaustedhomo



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Emotional Manipulation, Fallen Jedi (Star Wars), Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Cal Kestis, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Nightsister Magic | Dathomir Magic (Star Wars), Overprotective, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Spiritual, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedhomo/pseuds/exhaustedhomo
Summary: After his encounter with Master Jaro Tapal through a Force vision in the Sage's Tomb, Cal Kestis is left shaken and weak. Dathomir has unmade him. But there is a strange man here, a wanderer who seems to hold the answers Cal seeks, if only he joins him as his family, as his new apprentince. The darkness is encroaching on all of Cal's senses. He's falling apart - and this man might be the only thing able to hold him together.OrCal's deep seeded daddy issues and survivor's guilt get taken advantage of by a very perceptive Malicos who wouldn't mind having a boy
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Taron Malicos
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one can be read as an angsty, fluffy one-shot. Chapter two and on become more explicit.

He'd killed him. Again. Jedi Master Jaro Tapal should have lived. Would have lived, if only Cal hadn't been a coward. And now here he was, at the end of his blade.

He'd killed him again.

Murderer

Jaro Tapal was not surprised. Of course he wasn't. Cal Kestis was weak, undisciplined. Always in need of help, of someone to tell him what to do and where to go and how to get there. Barely a Padawan, hardly a Jedi.

And there stood Cal. In the tomb of the Sage, lightsaber crushed under his hand. Jaro Tapal was right. It was his fault. He'd spent five long years on Bracca trying to forget, to pretend he was something else. To be someone else. When Cere came to his rescue - after Prauf died. He'd killed Prauf too - he thought he had the answer to who he was. A Jedi, finally.

Barely a Padawan. Hardly a Jedi.

But here, on Dathomir, he'd learned the truth. He was a killer. He killed Jaro Tapal. He killed Prauf. Not to mention the years of work on Bracca, ignoring labor accidents to not expose himself. A small push, a gentle hold. All it would have taken to avoid the unforeseen deaths of hard working scrappers with families, with dreams, with a desire to see another day.

He'd killed him, again.

How fitting, he thought briefly, to be in a tomb. A temple of death.

The Force was strong here. He'd felt it walking in. Like a viscous ozone surrounding and binding the ancient site together. Yet he felt nothing now. Whatever had been here, dissipated when it'd seen his true nature. Cal thought that was fitting, too.

His footsteps were heavy and dumb as he walked back towards the large temple door he'd come in from. Dread built deep in his stomach the closer he got. BD-1 trilled on his back encouragingly. Cal didn't want to let him down along with everyone else, so he pushed on.

Cal placed his hand on the cold, glistening metal of the ancient doorway. There was a dull pounding in his temples, distant but growing. What was this feeling, of old aching wounds?

He reached out to the Force, opening the door, and finally took his first step out.

And there it was, all at once. Like millions of faded scars opening up and flaring angrily. His temples now pounded like a nightbrother had personally chosen his head as a drum to hammer on with abandon. The ages of misery, of anger and pain, the darkness of Dathomir wrapped itself around him. The Force, which had protected him before and doubly so within the tomb, was nowhere to be felt. It, too, had deemed him unworthy.

Bile rose in Cal's throat. He had to leave this place now. The panic setting in his heart was frantic, a mortal instinct of survival. He couldn't make it here. Escape. Flee. Leave. Like he left Tapal. Like he left Prauf. Like he left his past.

Go!

He ground his teeth and marched forward. This is who he was.

"Things not go as planned?"

Cal jumped in his skin. He turned to the rich, gravelly voice. It was the old wanderer from before. A small smile played on his lips.

"You can't say I didn't warn you" the man said.

"Leave me alone". Cal was at his wits' end. He just wanted to be gone. He didn't have time to listen to this man.

"Leave you? Alone?" The wanderer sounded genuinely horrified at the prospect, "Lost and defenseless, in this dangerous place?"

Through his mind's haze, Cal's anger flared. "Okay enough of this. Who are you really?"

He held his lightsaber reflexively in a guarded position. The man moved languid, shrugged the tattered cloak off his broad shoulders, hands at his waist. He was impressive. His scarred chest and bare arms were strong, defined by the powerful muscles under the skin. The high waisted tunic was of a finer leather than what Cal had seen on this planet yet, though just as worn as everything else seemed to be here. And where his hands met, two lightsabers rested with menacing easy. Despite his weathered face, the eyes gleamed with a sharp intelligence under the silver hair, the muscles taut, looking for all the world like a predator ready to pounce at any moment.

But he didn't pounce. He smiled.

"Taron Malicos" the wanderer said, "Former Jedi like yourself. We have much common"

The pandora's box unleashed by Dathomir inside Cal was threatening to completely overtake him. Taron Malicos didn't seem bothered. How could they be alike, when Cal was moments from falling apart?

"I doubt that"

"Oh? We both survived the Purge. My troops betrayed me. I was forced to strike them down, and I escaped, to this desolate place" Malicos said each sentence slowly, like he was reading off a list. Then his voice lowered, "The darkness here. It almost took me. But I conquered it"

There was a triumph in his tone. A declaration of power. It made sense now. Cal understood.

"You're the one the nightbrothers follow" he said. He wasn't sure if it was a question or an accusation.

"Yes!" Taron smiled, his teeth bared, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He noticed Cal's gaze drift to the series of teeth and horns on a length of leather string hanging from his belt.

"These savages only respect strength," he explained, "As we both know the Force is a most powerful ally".

Cal knew what it took to survive in a strange place, with no help on the way. Dathomir was Taron's Bracca. But Cal didn't conquer people on Bracca.

You just let them die instead.

"No!" Cal's internal catastrophe blazed anew, "You use the Force to seize power, that's everything the Jedi stood against!"

"These are dark times!" Taron Malicos raised his voice for the first time. Frustration bubbled to the surface, "They will consume us if we don't stand with each other"

Stand with each other? This Malicos was mad. What were they to the other? Nothing.

But you're both killers.

"I don't need your help"

Both murderers. You killed Tapal. He killed nightbrothers.

"That broken lightsaber tells a different tale. You saw something in there, didn't you? Something terrible," Malicos' voice softened. He sounded concerned for Cal's safety. He could feel this planet's darkness unmaking Cal Kestis from the inside out. Cal's emotions were swirling wildly in the Force, a storm of conflict, a cry for help. This boy needed an anchor. Taron could be that, perhaps. But the boy would have to choose.

If something didn't change soon, Cal was going to die. He could feel it. Die or go mad. The voices were growing. He was drowning in this ancient, dark power.

Please, he begged into the Force, please help me

"There are many such places here on Dathomir" Taron continued. He heard Cal's plea. And he answered it. "Join my family. And I can teach you how to control its power"

Taron Malicos held out a hand to the young padawan.

Murderer!

Cal trembled under the searing red sun like a naked man in a blizzard.

Betrayer!

He reached for Malicos. Could he make it stop? Please!

You will never be a Jedi. Only a coward.

This man, Taron Malicos, was not a Jedi. The Jedi were dead. They'd been dead for years. The Jedi could not end Cal's suffering. The Council could not save him from Dathomir. The Force had abandoned him in the tomb.

Barely a Padawan. Hardly a Jedi.

Taron's calloused hand engulfed his when they finally touched. The full brunt of Cal's anguish washed over Taron through the Force. Cal's voice shook.

"I'm scared"

"I know" Malicos said. He squeezed Cal's hand gently, "I will show you the way". It was a promise.

The way to what? What path was Cal even on? The truth was simple. Cal had only ever been taught to be one thing, and he'd failed at that. Miserably. Over and over again, like he was right now. That's why the Force had abandoned him. That's why this ancient planet was eating him alive.

"I don't know who I am, if I'm not a Jedi" his voice cracked.

Malicos pulled him in close, held him in an embrace, firm against his chest. All at once, the dark weight of Dathomir was quelled. Malicos's Force aura swept over his senses like a wave, warm and protective. It was heavy. Tainted, tinged with blood and mysteries, and its own darkness. But it wasn't unleashed against him. It evened out his senses, shielded him from this wretched place. Cal opened himself up to this energy, let it overtake him. Anything to make it stop. This man's presence was safety itself. Cal couldn't imagine letting go.

"Let the past die, Cal Kestis" Taron whispered from above, his deep voice rumbling in his chest "I will make you strong. Your suffering will not be in vain. You are safe here, with me"

Cal nodded against the man, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He held onto Malicos far longer than he'd ever held anyone in his life. It was not the way of the Jedi to be overly affectionate, and Cal expected some form of admonishment for this overstep. But Taron did not rebuke him. Taron did not call him weak, or a coward. He only embraced him, and breathed evenly into his hair. Cal was safe here.

Eventually, Malicos pulled back, and held him at shoulder's length. His gaze was intense, studious. They stayed like this a moment, then Malicos was pushing down on his shoulders, not rough, but firm. It was clear Cal was to go on his knees. He did, keeping his eyes cast downward. He recognized this ritual. He heard the ignition of a saber, felt the heat of the blade by his face where Malicos held it close.

"Cal Kestis. As of this moment, you shall be my apprentice," Taron Malicos rumbled from above, "Do you accept?"

The answer was on Cal's lips. "Yes, Master".

The Force surrounding Cal shifted, enveloped him. It was wonderful. The lightsaber, crimson as the Dathomirian sun, switched to this other side. He'd known, somehow, that this man's blades would be bled crystals. Taron had spent five long years on Dathomir fighting to survive, fighting to breathe. It was a wonder the man hadn't gone mad. The darkness all around Cal was inexplicably vicious. Of course Taron had lost some part of himself to the darkness. Like Cere, and like Trilla. But Cere only wanted Cal to finish her quest for her, and Trilla only cared at all because she was an Inquisitor. This man had held his hand out to Cal, despite it being of no benefit to him. He'd taken the weight of Dathomir upon himself to rescue Cal. The Jedi were dead. Let the man's blades burn red.

"Denounce all your loyalties, Cal Kestis. Swear your allegiance to me, and me alone. Swear it by the Force"

Cal hesitated. All his loyalties? The Jedi were one thing. But what about Cere and Greez? It was true he may be a means to and end, and she had lied to him. Greez's habits could have gotten him killed. Despite that, weren't they a team? BD-1 had yet to make sound since this interaction started. Was Cal willing to give all that up? Was this a mistake?

Another shift in the Force. Something was wrong. It was leaving, exposing him. The drumming in his temples was slowly pounding its way forward again. Cal felt nauseous. With a sigh from above him, the lightsaber retreated. The dark boots turned to walk away. No. No, no, Malicos was leaving him in the open. Vulnerable to the voices, to the dark, to himself. He'd failed, and Malicos would leave. No!

Cal lunged for the man's boots and held on to his ankles, his face in the hardpan dust. His skull felt like it might split in two at any moment. He couldn't let Malicos leave him, not like this.

"Yes, Master!" he sobbed into the dirt, "I swear my loyalty to you!"

Make it stop!

Malicos didn't move. Cal risked a look at his face and was met with a blank, disappointed stare.

"Are you certain, young one? Do you wish to consider it longer?" Taron was displeased with him. He'd hesitated too long.

No! No! Don't leave me!

Cal felt his own pulse in his eyes, in his throat. It was getting worse.

"I'm sorry, Master" he bowed even lower, "I won't fail you again. Please, Master"

Malicos said nothing. Was this really it? Would he die alone in these cursed burning rocks?

But there it was again. Taron's presence blanketing him completely, holding him safely in the Force. Cal basked in the heavy aura, how it held his very being together. Was he forgiven?

"Come, Apprentice" Malicos said, sitting on the steps leading to the tomb's entrance, his legs spread wide, elbows resting on his knees, "come, sit at my side. Tell me what you saw in there"

As Cal rose, he saw movement from the corner of his eyes, and caught a thrown object by instinct. He recognized the familiar shape of a lightsaber handle, albeit with unknown components and a weight balance very different than what he knew. One of Malicos's sabers. He looked up to his new master confused.

"Master? I - I don't understand," he said.

Malicos grinned at him, and Cal felt his presence embrace him once again. "You will need a lightsaber when we go back into that tomb to defeat your demons, Cal Kestis. I will protect you this time"


	2. Bare

Taron Malicos had touched the Darkness long before becoming stranded on Dathomir, before the Purge, before the Jedi fell apart. It often felt like a different lifetime entirely. Back then, he'd been Jedi Master Malicos. Not the duelist he once was - he certainly wasn't getting any younger - but a powerful consular in the Force. He'd dreamed of a seat on the Council for many years, had worked diligently to prove his worth. He knew GrandMaster Yoda saw this. Master Windu considered him too much of a mystic, however. That was okay. In Taron's opinion, Mace Windu followed the Force only in as much as it let him ignite that violet blade of his. 

But none of that mattered now. He was no longer interested in such a position. Here, before the Council, he was assigned a new task. He'd just returned from a search in Takodana after a powerful ripple in the Force had drawn the Order's attention there. Some thought it could have been Count Dooku. He'd only left the Jedi Order a few years prior to govern his home planet of Serenno as its rightful heir. Taron hadn't known Jedi Master Dooku all that well, but he doubted it was him, so far from his governance. And upon his return to Coruscant, to the temple, he'd relayed as much. There was nothing out of place on Takodana, aside from a diminutive orange lady who ran a cantina. But he felt there was more to be learned from the planet.They trusted him in this, trusted his senses in the Force. They moved on.

"Master Malicos," Master Yaddle began, "the Council has agreed on a long term assignment for you"

"Long term?" Malicos repeated. A thrill ran through him. He didn't often voice it, but the reason he'd stepped away from his Council ambitions was the Council's adherence to politics before the will of the Force. Malicos considered his duty to the Living Force above all other things. He once thought the Council did too. But especially in recent years, these masters, on the most advanced planet in Republic space, in the safest part of the safest city, high up in the temple of the Jedi, they didn't serve the Force. How could they, when they hadn't ventured to feel its presence in so long?

But a part of him hoped they'd understood, as he had, that the disturbance in Takodana needed to be further investigated. Malicos could feel his work there wasn't done. 

"Long term, indeed" Yoda answered in his cracking growl, "A padawan, you must train"

Malicos reeled. He looked around the Council members, seeking secretive smiles or knowing glances. But he sensed no jest among them. 

"I can't," he started, coughed, then tried again, "Rather, I shouldn't. I've nothing of benefit to teach a young learner". 

Yoda chuckled in his seat. "Strong in the Force, you are," he said, "listen to the Force, you do. More than others, perhaps". There was a glint in his eyes as he said it. Had he sensed Malicos' thoughts?

"Learn much from you, a Padawan can. Learn much, from the Force". Yoda said it in a way that sounded final. Malicos didn't like the tone of it. 

"You are dismissed, Master Malicos," Mace Windu said, "You may rest first if you wish, but by morning, choose a Padawan. Master Nu says there are plenty of initiates ready for the next step"

"What if  _ I'm  _ not ready?" Malicos asked. He didn't feel like he was. 

"Then you will learn to be as you go," said Master Eeth Koth, a powerful Zabrak, "Masters learn just as much from their Padawans as they teach them".

Malicos bowed, his hands folded deep within the sleeves of his robes. It was the most respectful position a Jedi could assume, and he excused himself in it. He made his way to his private quarters - though they wouldn't be private much longer- and bathed in scalding water. His skin protested, but the muscles underneath were grateful. The days on Takodana had been fruitful, but long and tiresome. He’d needed this.

It was late by the time he stepped out, skin red and steaming. The sky glowed pink and purple as the moon rose. He'd sleep tonight, and go to the temple early in the morning. The Force would guide him. 

He meditated before sleep, trying to find peace in the Living Force. It was always more difficult in Coruscant. The highrise city felt so far away from reality. It was a wonder he'd spent his entire childhood here. No matter. The Force found him, and he felt his senses calm. 

Malicos was too tired to put on a sleeping gown. He fell asleep nude, as he preferred, wondering how many years it would be before he could do so again.

……….

  
  


Nighttime one Dathomir was strange, Cal decided. Even as the sky darkened, it lost none of its crimson color. In fact, as the sun set and the moons rose, he could more easily see the blood red mist that covered the canyons and peaks, as far as the eye could see. Or as far as  _ his _ eyes could see, if nothing else. 

Malicos had taken him to a nightbrother home. It seemed to have been carved out of the side of the mountain it resided in. The house was large, by Dathomir standards, and certainly by nightbrother standards. Malicos mentioned in passing that he'd earned it. Cal wondered how much bloodshed it had cost. 

At the steps of the tomb of Kujet, Cal and Malicos had spoken for a long time. Cal had told him all about Jaro Tapal, about Bracca, Eno Cordova, the holocron. Everything. It spilled out of him like he’d been waiting his whole life to tell someone. Sometimes, he would slow down, self conscious of tangents and asides, but Malicos would lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, or his arm, or his own hand, and Cal would continue. Once or twice he stopped completely. Describing his old master’s death was almost as painful as the visions. Malicos did not push him to continue in those times. He would only squeeze him gently in the Force, a reassurance rather than a nudge. Before they knew it, night was falling. Malicos spent much of his time inside the tomb, but decided they could return come morning. Cal didn’t feel ready for that.

The comlink at his waist beeped, a startling, foreign sound that bounced off the rock walls around him. He fumbled with the device, dropped it once, swore, then answered, "Cere?"

"Cal," the woman sounded relieved on the other end, "are you okay? 

"Yeah," Cal said and BD-1, who had been in standby mode, trilled into the com, "yeah I'm okay. This tomb is different from the ones on Zeffo. It's going to take me longer to figure it out"

Cere was silent for a moment. He thought he heard Greez whisper something, but it was too low to make out. 

"Okay, Cal. Do you want to come back to the Mantis to sleep?"

Cal pondered this. His mind had been occupied all day with his old master, with his new master, with the forces on Dathomir. He'd been too busy to remember his irritation with Cere. But now, hearing her voice, his anger grew again. Her lies, and her omissions of the truth, were hurtful. He'd trusted her, had taken this quest on for her. But apparently that didn't earn him her honesty. 

"I'm good here," Cal decided, "you guys close the Mantis for now. It's dangerous out. I'll be back soon". He closed the call before they could respond. 

Cal was angrier than he'd realized. His heart beat an accelerated rhythm, like someone ready to fight. If he was going to get any sleep tonight he needed to calm down. He could meditate. But that was always a gamble. Things might go wrong, he might lose control. But Malicos was here, a room away in his own bed. Maybe it'd be okay if he tried. 

Cal sat forward on his knees, laying his master's borrowed lightsaber in front of him. He didn't want to risk crushing this one. He breathed in deep through his nose, into his diaphragm and belly, as much air as he could, and blew it out of his mouth in a slow, steady exhale. He repeated the process, again and again, until he almost felt like he was floating in nothingness. His mind wandered, as it tended to. It was useless to resist the distractions of stillness, so he acknowledged his passing thoughts without dwelling on any of them. They rolled by like a river current. 

Cal opened his eyes and found himself in the void again. A heavy weight settled in his stomach. No, he hadn't meant to be here. This was wrong. He went too far, he had to leave. 

"So you're back," Jaro Tapal sneered at him, taking shape from the emptiness, "here to kill me again?"

_ Murderer _

" _ No!"  _

Cal's eyes snapped open again as he screamed, a repulse of Force energy exploding out from him. The walls around him shook, then cracked, then settled under the weight of the canyon. Cal leaned forward on all fours, gasping for breath, his eyes burning.  _ Dammit _ .

He sensed it before he saw it. His Master, rushing to the room, crimson lightsaber ignited and humming as he called, "Apprentice?"

Cal felt the man enter the room. "Cal Kestis?" Taron asked. Cal took a breath, pushed up, sat on his knees like before. 

And immediately felt his face turn a deeper shade of red than his master's blade. 

In front of him, his silver hair down from its tail, the lighsaber glowing, stood his master completely naked. His posture was steady and lithe, the muscles of his arms and abdomen tensed and ready to strike, to fight, to protect. The lightsaber bathed his body in a red hue, casting dark shadows and scarlet highlights on his bare figure, the dusting of hair on his chest and arms accentuated in the darkness. He was powerful. Dangerous. Breathtaking. From his position, Cal was looking up at him. And at eye level was - 

The man was naked, after all. And he was a big man. Apparently, everything about him was big. 

Cal swallowed hard at the sight of his master's thick, soft cock. It sat heavy just past his low hanging sac, which was plump from the two large orbs resting in it. 

Cal had of course seen a penis before. As a youngling he'd learned all he needed to about anatomy, human and many other races alike, as well as reproduction and pleasure. Until one received their own quarters as a Knight, privacy in the temple was more of a concept than a reality. He'd seen plenty of boys his age naked. But this wasn't a boy his age, and what lay between this man's thighs was much, much more than he'd ever seen before. It stirred something deep inside him, lit his groin on fire in ways he didn't fully understand. 

"Apprentice?"

He forced his eyes away, to look back up to his master's face. How long had he been staring?

"Master, I woke you" he bowed his head, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell"

"It wasn't your voice that woke me," Malicos said, retracting his lightsaber. The dark spots that filled Cal's vision still perfectly carved out his master's body and member, and when the man turned to face him fully, he thought he saw it sway gently, "I felt your cry of despair in the Force. You lost control in your meditation?"

Malicos sounded concerned. Cal's shoulders slumped. "Yes, Master. I tried a peace meditation. But I saw him again," Cal choked, "I failed again"

"Hush, Boy" Malicos said. He still stood above him, ran his large hand through Cal's hair, "you have not failed. But you should have called on me, if you were agitated" as he said this, the Force hugged Cal in a warm embrace. 

"I knew you were resting, Master. I didn't want to disturb you" Cal lowered his gaze.

"Nonsense," Malicos whispered, and pulled Cal's head to him, letting him rest on his thigh, "you do not disturb me, Cal Kestis. I said I would protect you. I intend to" he pet Cal's hair, his thumb caressing Cal's cheek gently. The gesture was sweet, parental almost, but Cal burned at the ears, so close to this man's nakedness. It was like Malicos didn't even realize he was nude, or if he did, didn't care. He'd just ran here when he felt Cal's anguish. He'd been here less than a day and already was a burden-

The gentle hand suddenly grabbed a handful of Cal's hair and pulled his face up roughly. A sharp spike of pain ran through Cal's scalp and spine, and he let out a cry. What was happening?

"I sense your doubt, Cal Kestis" Malicos said. His voice was steel, hoarse and heavy. His face unreadable in the dark. "I said you are not a burden to me. Are you implying I am a liar, Apprentice?" 

Malico's gaze was ice on Cal's face, but it bore on him like fire. His face flushed with shame. 

"Master, no - I. I didn't mean that," he mumbled.

"Listen well, Apprentice. I will protect you. And I will make you strong. And in return-" Malicos dropped to his level, eye to eye, his hand firm in Cal's hair, his breath on Cal’s mouth, "and in return, you will respect me. I speak only the words that I mean to speak, and I lay their meaning bare. Do not doubt me again. Are we understood?" 

“Yes, Master”

With that, he rose to his feet. Cal felt like an unfocused child for noticing the man's cock swing as he rose. The hand in his hair was gentle again. Cal's head spun, like he was experiencing emotional whiplash from this man, who seethed and caressed within the same moment. But it was his fault. 

It was always his fault. 

Like Tapal.

Hardly a Jedi. 

It hit Cal that throughout the exchange, Malicos had not stopped embracing him with the Force. Even after he'd made him angry, his master had kept him safe, held him close. 

He wouldn't let this man go. He couldn't. 

Cal wasn't sure how long they stayed there like that. At some point, they shifted. Malicos now sat on the bed, his legs spread wide, and Cal on the floor, to his side, his head resting on the outside of the man's thigh. All the while, Malicos ran his fingers through Cal's hair. 

Cal didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the years without physical contact with someone, anyone, much less someone who understood his pain. Maybe it was the protective blanket of the Force around him. Maybe it was the feeling of being cared for. Maybe it was this strong, beautiful man's large hands in his hair. Or even, the pent up necessities of years that he'd ignored. 

He didn't know what it was. But a different kind of warmth blossomed in his chest. It spread through his body in waves, then pulsed away from him and into the Force, into their shared presence. He sensed when Malicos felt it, and was rewarded with returning waves of approval and comfort through the Force. Cal couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, buried his face in the man’s side. His new master accepted him.

They'd formed a bond. 

Malicos tugged on his hair, gently this time, and said only, "There's a good boy".


	3. Calm

Cal was struggling to concentrate. 

Him and Malicos had returned to Kujet's tomb. The cool air of the ancient ruin was a relief from the Dathomirian heat, and although his Master's embrace in the Force still held him, the added protection within the temple walls from the planet’s darkness was invaluable to Cal's sanity. They'd been here some time now, and Cal had not entered a meditation trance. So far he'd been blaming it on fear from his past experiences, but the truth became clearer every time he closed his eyes. 

Malicos had fallen asleep on Cal's bed the night before, while Cal sat on the floor next to him. And this morning, as the red sun rose from the canyon peaks, Cal had woken up to his Master's thick cock fully hardened and throbbing in the early light. It was even bigger like this, the head blunt and slick with a pearly drop of his-

Cal thought his head might explode from shame. His Master's breathing was deep and even. Malicos had still been asleep. From his place below, his head resting on the man's thigh, he could see the broad column from only inches away. 

It was much more intimidating like this, fully engorged and in the light of day. 

Why did Cal's own nether regions tingle so much as he looked? Were his cheeks as red as they felt? What if he reached out and touched it?

Cal clamped down on that last thought. Where were these feelings coming from? They were entirely foreign urges to the young man, and yet familiar in a way that ran through his bones. Instead Cal did the next best thing, and stared openly, drinking in every detail, every vein, each pulse. The large erection eventually flagged, and Cal watched it soften with equal fascination. Still an intimidating size, but not quite as angry looking. He didn't notice when he fell asleep again. 

Next time Cal awoke, the sun was a bit higher on its climb. A calloused hand caressed his cheek, and the realization that it had to be Malicos's hand hit him just as he noticed he'd been leaning into the touch in his sleep. For what felt like way too many times in such a short span, Cal's face steamed yet again. Malicos was dressed in his tunic and cloak, thank the Force. He must have moved Cal from the floor at some point, since he was laying on the bed. That spoke badly of his senses, to not have woken up, but Malicos's presence felt calm, so Cal decided not to mention it. 

Shortly thereafter, they'd come back to the tomb. And every time Cal tried to clear his mind, his Master's engorged meat flashed behind his eyelids. This was going to be impossible. He was exerting so much energy just trying to keep his thoughts from leaking into the Force. Especially now that they'd formed a Force Bond, which linked their Force signatures, their thoughts and feelings, ever closer. Even Malicos, who had thus far been very patient and nurturing- much to Cal's surprise and pleasure- would become irritated sooner or later. He had to figure this out. One way or another. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Taron Malicos watched Cal Kestis with hardly disguised fascination. His new apprentice was strong in the Force, with potential like Malicos hadn't seen in years and years. The boy's eyes were shut, far too tight and forceful for someone trying to enter a blank mindspace. Malicos knew this was inconsistent with the boy's description of his previous venture in the tomb. Before, he'd been all but thrown into the void, and even the previous night had seemed like Cal Kestis's problem was falling into trance too quickly rather than too slowly. Something was going on, and the man had an inkling of what it may be.

Malicos knew that Cal had only very recently healed a wound in his connection to the Force. The act in and of itself was admirable, especially for one doing so alone. And yet, the healing of the wound had left a nasty scar - Cal's Force signature unstable, fluctuating in intensity. Malicos suspected Dathomir's oppressive atmosphere had brought out this particular problem. Cal's connection to the Force wasn't  _ re- _ broken. but inflicting damage to fresh scars wasn't wise. He had taken care to keep the boy cloaked in his own Force, lest Dathomir tear him at the seams. 

Cal Kestis was a kind child. Kindness didn't last long under this red sun. 

But Kestis wasn't  _ just _ kind. He was naïve, too, and damaged. Deeply, perhaps irreparably. Not just his Force connection, but his mind, his soul, he  _ ached _ for guidance, for fullness, for direction. He believed if someone could show him how, he could put himself back together. Malicos relished in this knowledge. It wasn't difficult to reach within himself, into the past, and find the gentle man he had once been, the guiding hand to a young apprentice. Cal Kestis was older than his old Padawan had been, and with much more potential. 

When Padawan Vim Hadassa had been killed on Dex Prime by an insurgent group of Separatist radicals, Jedi Master Taron Malicos murdered the entire camp. Dozens upon dozens of humans, Rodians, Wookies, his crackling blade and raging Force had known no mercy to any. He'd awoken from the haze of his slaughter surrounded by corpses. Some cut cleanly in two, others with their bones completely crushed and sticking out at odd angles from their mangled bodies. 

Yes, Taron Malicos had known Darkness long before the Purge. 

It had overtaken him then, had controlled him. But he'd conquered it in time, here on Dathomir, and the Darkness was now his true ally. He would teach this boy the same. He wouldn't lose another apprentice. 

And if he had to pick up the boy's broken pieces and forcibly assemble them into a new form, he would do so. He would speak to him in a paternal voice, and touch him with a gentle hand, but he would forge him in a burning hearth. The boy would grow strong from his pain, reliant on his suffering for power, and dependent on his Master for comfort. Already he could see this dependence forming, but its roots were not yet deep enough. He might need more time, or perhaps a few more cracks in his armor. 

Malicos knew both the patience to wait for him and the strength to break him further. 

And then Cal Kestis would be his. His powerful apprentice, his ever loyal servant. Not the broken Padawan, not the lost life, not the scared boy ripped unjustly from him. Malicos would not fail again, no matter what he had to do to ensure it. 

Master and apprentice. As it should be. 

Malicos would never be alone again. 

And if his new apprentice's eyes seemed to linger on his naked form more than they should, well, it had been a long five years on Dathomir. And there was more than one way to make a boy submit. 

The beginnings of arousal pulsed in Malicos's groin, and he let the feeling travel through the Force, watched Cal Kestis tense and then shiver beside him. Malicos hid a grin. The boy had no idea what he was in for. 

But first, he reminded himself, the tomb. There was much work to be done to truly make him powerful, and Malicos certainly did not want a pet, some useless pup to service him. Cal Kestis had to prove his nerve here. There was long suffering ahead. Not to mention, those pesky traveling companions of his. The ship was definitely an asset, and their ticket out of Dathomir. But after five years, Malicos didn't mind waiting some time longer, to refine Kestis, so by the time they left, he would willingly cut down those two, along with the little witch that watched them even now. By the time they left Dathomir, their bond would be beskar forged in the heart of a star. 

He could already see it, as clear as the visions this planet imposed. By day, they would scour the galaxy for the secrets of the Force, for the power it held, and by night, he would take the boy, again and again, fill him to bursting, he would carve a space inside him with his cock where only he would be able to be enough ever again-

Cal  _ moaned _ , haughtiness ringing in the sound. He'd felt it all through the Force. His face burned, and he wouldn't look at Malicos. It had been an accident, but Malicos thought that was just as well. Give the boy something to work for, since he so clearly wanted it. But he wouldn't mention it. Not yet. Not while Cal Kestis still fought the ghost of his old master. 

Malicos was not known to be fond of sharing what was his. 

He reached down and adjusted his swollen cock, which had filled to half mast. He made a show of reaching and holding it through his tunic, then again closed his eyes. 

"You are not meditating, Cal Kestis" he said as he cleared his mind. 

"I - I'm trying, Master" Cal mumbled in hot shame. 

"I know" 

This was the calm. Then, all at once, came the storm.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fisticuffs up next


	4. Masters

The rusted copper and muddied browns in the outer chamber of Kujet's tomb melted away, bled into darkness. The blank space of the void immediately began to shape. Cal Kestis opened his eyes to it. He'd made it back. 

Something had pushed him here. Even now he could feel it. One moment he'd been ready to spontaneously combust from the searing lust his Master had passed to him through the Force, and the next he was thrown into a meditative trance. 

What changed? 

_ Doubt,  _ his mind whispered. 

Cal's conflict had been born of two halves. One his own body's carnality, but the other was the insecurity that came with desire. The fear of loss, and the greed of possession. What if his Master rejected him when he learned what Cal was thinking every time he saw him?

But Taron Malicos had flooded all of Cal's senses with his lust, had shown him flashes through the Force of every way he wanted to satiate his own needs using Cal's body, and along with the burning shame came another feeling. 

_ Acceptance.  _ His Master wanted him. That powerful man, a grizzled warrior and an elegant elite at once, was going to take him, take his first time -

Cal had never even considered the possibility of a first time before. Jedi celibacy was a core tenant of the Order, and one he hadn't particularly struggled with previously. What was it about Taron Malicos that tempted him so?

Cal pushed off his knees and to his feet, taking in the void. It shimmered like hot desert air, a faint hue of lilac misting the space. It was the Force, concentrated to the point of visibility, touching everything here. Cal knew what came next. He hoped he was ready. 

He wasn't. 

From behind, the buzzing of energy cut through air violently, and Cal barely managed to spin in time to dodge the lightsaber blade. He tripped with the movement, stumbling to the hard stone beneath his boots, and had to roll away to avoid yet another attempt to bisect him. Using the Force - graciously, it listened to him here - he pushed away from the ground, putting distance between himself and the assailant. He needed space to think. 

Jaro Tapal stood as tall as ever against the endless void. It seemed he was past words. He reached out his hand across the void and Cal felt the familiar weightlessness of being caught in someone else's hold. 

Cal flexed hard, willing his own connection to the Force to overpower his master's hold on him, to no avail. He was floating in place now, his limbs bound tightly to his sides. 

"You are not my equal in the Force," Jaro Tapal finally spoke. He marched towards Cal, his blade dragging behind him. It burned a white hot streak into the stones beneath. "You are not my equal at all"

"I never wanted to be," Cal said through the hold, "I wanted to learn from you. To be worthy of the Jedi" 

"Your failures are your own, Padawan. You could not learn because you are weak. You are not worthy because you are a coward," Tapal was in front of him now, raised his blade to strike him down, "You were supposed to trust in the Force, and await the Council's orders on Bracca, what kind of Jedi-"

"No!" Cal screamed. He was reminded that Jaro Tapal was dead. This vision was not his master-  _ former _ master. There was no Council to wait for. There was no order in the galaxy except the one that replaced it, no strength in the Force but the strength he'd found in it himself. Not through the Jedi or Jaro Tapal, but through his own pain and now Taron Malicos. 

Barely a Padawan. Hardly a Jedi. 

With all the strength he could muster, Cal broke his hand free from Tapal's hold, and shoved all of his anguish into a powerful Force push. Tapal's lightsaber ricocheted against the pressure, flying back in an arc and cutting clean through the purple Lasat's arm, above the elbow. Jaro Tapal stumbled back with a hiss and Cal fell unceremoniously to the floor as he was let go. 

"I'm not a Jedi," Cal breathed as he got to his feet once again, "I was a  _ kid _ when the Purge happened. You don't get to blame me for your own death. I didn't ask you to do anything for me," 

Jaro Tapal's shoulders shook, his breaths ragged. The limp form of his severed arm smoked in front of him. The lightsaber lay deactivated on the floor. Cal had never seen such a look of unfiltered rage on the man. 

"Then at last you accept your fate," said the man, inhaling deeply. His body, tense with pain, relaxed and the discarded weapon levitated back towards him.

The lightsaber's second blade extended out from the hilt, and through his hold in the Force, the weapon began to spin. The blue blades trailed after each other, painting thin curves in the air where they traveled, until it spun so fast it became nothing but a shimmering circle of light. 

Cal, too, took a steadying breath, searching for that feeling of the Force flowing through his very being. A battle mediation. His senses sharpened immediately. The feeling was like removing a blind fold he hadn't known was there. All of his senses came into focus at once, the Force pushing his biology to its limits. He reached for his new Master's lightsaber at his side and held the hilt tightly with both hands. 

"This is the end, Padawan" Jaro Tapal fell into a stance behind the spinning blades, the fingers of his remaining arm twirling to keep them moving, "you should have trusted in the Force"

He lunged. 

The man had never seemed so large, so powerful, like an earthquake or a rock slide. A brutal force of nature. Cal dug his boots further into the stones, as solid as he could be. Jaro Tapal blurred towards him, all lights and shimmers. 

Jaro Tapal jumped at the last moment, inhumanly nimble despite his bouldering mass, and like the pulse of a heartbeat, Cal felt a wave of the Force expand from within himself. It touched everything in his vicinity. The stone floor, ancient and not entirely unreal, the endless void stretching out around him, the Jedi Master in his arc across the air. It touched past his own physical senses, and into the immaterial. He could see where Jaro Tapal was going to land. The man would turn midair and cut Cal in half before he landed, the lightsaber ever spinning. Cal wasn't fast enough to block this attack. Somehow able to process everything at once, he could see Tapal was too far along in his movement to attempt to. His mind raced with all the information the Force conveyed to him. There was a reason battle mediations weren't supposed to be sustained for too long. The brain could only process so much before it gave out. Even now Cal knew his body would freeze with overload before he could react blade to blade. 

But he saw it, in the endless knowledge of the Force - Jaro Tapal's mind. The man was using all of his power, all of his concentration, into spinning the lightsaber with only his will. The perfect time to jump, the perfect amount of pressure to ensure the best travel path, the blistering pain of dismemberment. All of it in the Jedi Master's conscious at once. 

Too occupied with everything in front of him to guard his own body. 

_ You are not my equal in the Force.  _

That may still have been true. But for this, Cal didn't need to be. 

Cal threw his hands in front of him instinctively, but reached behind him with the Force, and clamped down Jaro Tapal. The strain was enormous, and the lightsaber still spun, but with a scream and a gesture of release, Cal finalized the technique. 

Jaro Tapal was frozen, upside down and midair. His lightsaber clattered loudly away. Cal stumbled forward with the effort, but gained his footing quickly and whirled around to face the man. Jaro Tapal's face was contorted, perhaps in anger. Cal placed the hilt of his lightsaber against the man's chest. He’d won.

Jaro Tapal smiled a twisted, pained smile. "Yes. Kill me once again Cal Kestis" he said, and his voice dripped with the sadism of it all. 

Cal shook his head, resolute. 

"You're already dead, Master," he said, "it's time I accept that. No more ghosts,"

Cal ignited the blade through his body, casting them both in red light. It looked strange against the blank void.

"I will always haunt y-"

In one quick turning motion, Cal separated Jaro Tapal's head from his shoulders, stopping his momentum with a knee on the stones. He exhaled a heavy breath, closing his eyes, fading away from this vision, as the large body fell next to him. 

It was over. 

His senses came to him slowly. He was back in Kujet's tomb. Despite being in the material world, Cal felt lighter than he had in years. A burden gone from his shoulders. The cold dry air of the room pricked his skin, and what had been a slow return to reality became a rush of sensations as he sensed Taron Malicos engaged in battle. 

Cal's eyes snapped open as he jumped to his feet, red blade ignited. The tomb door was open, and past it, the young woman he had encountered before, bathed in an eerie green mist. She moved and gestured as one trying to attack, but seemed unable to finish any of her actions. Cal stepped through the opening and saw four dead nightbrothers sprawled on the floor. No entry or exit wounds. Two whose necks were bent at nauseating angles. One's skull dented into his head. One against the rear wall, a trail of blood smeared against it. Malicos had killed them using only the Force. 

Cal had never seen such brutal applications of it. 

He finally caught sight of the man through the green mist. He was saying something. 

"You were told to deal with it!" He yelled. 

"I  _ am  _ dealing with it, Malicos" the woman - Merryn, her name was - spat at him. The green mist suddenly wrapped itself around Cal and tossed him through the air towards her. 

His mind was sharp, his battle reflexes still active from the vision. Cal threw out his hand and pushed against the ground with the Force, canceling his forward motion and using the upward momentum to flip back onto his feet. He landed near Malicos, who flashed him a sharp smile. 

"Cal Kestis! I see your meeting with your Master has ended successfully," he said. 

Cal didn't hesitate, "I have only one Master," he said. He bowed towards him, not taking his eyes off the woman. But he felt the Force swell around him. Malicos had liked that answer. 

"You'll be disappointed," Merryn said to him, "Malicos is a madman,"

"Says you?" Cal asked. They were circling each other now. 

"I would know better than anyone else. He has spent years using my people". Her hands glowed with that green energy. 

"He learned to survive," Cal said.

"But not as a man," she tossed a stone at him, "he survived by being an animal. A monster," 

Cal dodged easily with a turn of his shoulder, "There are plenty of monsters on Dathomir. What's one more?"

This seemed to be too much. Merryn screamed as the green mist once again wrapped around him. With the power of what felt like a ship's thrusters, she threw him towards the far wall. Cal only had a moment to guard his back with the Force before he broke through the ancient stone. The pain was blinding, and he flew across the chamber, sliding painfully towards a pit. With his hand, Cal Force pushed the air behind him to stop his momentum, skidding only feet from the edge of the rocks. This was a separate section of the tomb, and in the middle stood a wide ring of stone. The room glowed red in the little light coming through. 

Cal struggled to his feet once more. His back was already bruising. He heard the sound of a fast approaching object, readied to block, and was surprised to see Merryn, who seemed to have been similarly tossed here by someone else. She rushed past him and to the middle ring of stone, landing there with a hard crash. Before he could ask questions, Malicos came through the floating dust towards him. He put one of his large hands on his shoulder. 

"Kill her, Apprentice," he said, "and walk one step closer to your destiny," 

Cal's mind instinctively rejected the idea of killing someone unless it was absolutely necessary. Jaro Tapal had been a vision. This was different. Cal could immobilize her without killing her. 

The hand on his shoulder tightened. Malicos could feel his refusal. 

"Release this foolishness, Cal Kestis. The Jedi died because of their hypocrisy and their arrogance," Taron said. 

"Master, I-"

"How many of those white clad soldiers have you murdered to get here?" his Master cut him off. Had he seen stormtroopers when peering into Cal's mind?

"I don't- I don't know, Master" he admitted.

"You don't know? Or you've lost count?" Malicos pressed him. 

"They left me no other choice!" Cal tried. 

"Precisely!" Malicos said, "you had no choice. The illusion of choice is one you must shatter. You either kill your enemies, or let them live long enough to kill you. Do you understand, Apprentice?"

Cal felt the dizzying sensation of one's perception expanding. How had he not seen it? What logic had he been using to justify murdering the masked stormtroopers, but stopping short of killing people with names or faces? There were names and faces under those imperial masks too, and that had never stopped him. He may have fought droids in the Clone Wars, but Cal had been killing sentients for quite some time now. He'd killed the Ninth Sister too, hadn't even given it any thought since. 

He cursed himself, and cursed the Jedi. For his hypocrisy and double mindedness, this pointless crutch. Maybe Merryn was right about Malicos. He was a monster. 

And Cal was right behind him. 

Malicos saw that Cal understood, and said nothing more. Together, they cleared the large gap between them and the stone platform. Merryn regained her footing. When Cal landed, he was alone. Malicos had jumped higher, and stood above them both on one of the pillars around the ring. There was an expectant look in his eyes. This was a test.

Cal once more ignited his Master's red blade, reaching again into the Force for the focus he'd need. Merryn's eyes glowed as she prepared to strike

Cal wouldn't fail. 


End file.
